


Tell Me of Forevers

by NarutoDays (DAYS8)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Short One Shot, Tumblr Prompt, Two Shot, delinquent!Naruto, jk not a one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-11
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23103157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DAYS8/pseuds/NarutoDays
Summary: Hurt/Comfort Original Prompt created by whumpster-dumpster on Tumblr:Character A tilting Character B’s chin up to get a better look at their face and the evidence of the fight. A delicately thumbs away the streak of blood by B’s mouth, saying nothing as they examine it. After a brief pause, B’s heart skips a nervous beat as A looks them dead in the eyes. Their voice is quiet and tense, their anger barely restrained.“Who did this to you?”
Relationships: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 35
Kudos: 223





	1. Tell Me of Forevers

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Whump Prompt tagged "Protectiveness"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/566224) by whumpster-dumpster. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written by request for fellow NaruHina fanfic writer [itachiboutit](https://itachiboutit.tumblr.com/)  
>   
> Thank you for thinking of me, Rin!  
> She writes the most adorable sunshine family and naruhina fics on ff net, check her out!
> 
> This fanfic was originally posted July 29, 2019.

He can feel the ache on his left cheekbone is swelling into a nasty bruise, like gravel and soaked-heavy cotton got shoved up under his skin right after an oral surgery. 

Blood–the blood he spat out after they left–is drying shadowed red on the asphalt beside him where he sits to contemplate if this is really what he wants for himself.

If _this_ , just blocking the hits with only a glare to announce his spirit, did more damage to his pride than his body.

He hopes it didn’t. He wants to believe that it didn’t. And he wants to believe that the next time he sees them, he won’t send them all to hell for this.

Because he promised _her_ that he’d stop fighting. He promised her that he would graduate, and then promised himself that he would be the guy she thinks he is, that he can show her friends, her family, everyone, that he can measure up to her.

But the longer he reflects on it, the more he thinks he should’ve hit back.

He can’t show up to school tomorrow like this.

Everyone will just give him _that look_ and assume it’s just _Naruto being Naruto_ , can’t change, will never change, a hopelessly dangerous case, a stupid delinquent destined for nothing but rock-bottom of society. He’ll be suspended anyway.

What’s worse is, ever since he’s tried to change himself, he’s started to clearly understand that he can’t blame them for their assumptions…with his past track record…

No. What’s really worse…

His phone buzzes against his leg.

What will _she_ think.

When she understands for herself that he’s really not the guy she, _only_ she, sees. That he’s just a ne’er-do-well under the neon lights of the conbini, practically the same as the trash in the dumpster a couple of paces away. That no matter what he does now or in the future, his past will always follow him, that he’s already damned himself for too long.

He’s gonna get suspended for this. And with that…no fucking graduation.

He reaches for his phone in his pocket, the material chafing at the scraped skin of his wrist, and like he suspected, it’s Hinata’s message.

A cheerful encouragement to do his best in his studies tonight, complete with adorable emoji.

It makes his chest _ache_ , a sinking, spiraling, crushing, _losing_ feeling, much deeper than the physical pains from the one-sided fight.

She’s too good for him.

Too sweet to him.

Too everything that he can never hope to deserve.

He was starting to hope.

He was stupid to hope. Life remembered to remind him of his place in the world.

So much for that midterm tomorrow.

More than himself, he’s going to disappoint her, and he can’t bring himself to even fake a reply.

* * *

The click-click of a bicycle stops.

“Naruto-kun?!” _Her_ voice, a gasp of worry, jars his attention from the space between his knees and the ground.

He looks up to see her dropping her bike and practically flying over to him.

Large, pearl eyes taking everything in. His swelling face, his banged-up arm, his disheveled and dirtied shirt. He can see her lips fallen open, speechless, as she bends down. Her gaze traces over every part of his skin. Slowly, her hands raise, gentle to the frame of his jaw.

Suddenly, he can’t take her careful scrutiny. He drops his shocked stare, only to land on the delicate curve of her wrist. He doesn’t flinch when her thumb brushes the sting at the corner of his bottom lip. He’s beyond crazy to think that actually felt good. Her touch.

Beyond crazy to actually be comforted that she’s here. _What is she doing here?_ “What are you doing here.” His throat’s dry, making his tone only lifelessly accusing.

Her fingers lift from his skin, his regret in the action pulling his eyes back onto her.

She gets up, rushes back to her bike to grab a tote bag that had spilled to the ground, and hurriedly digs through it. She pulls out an electrolyte drink and runs back to him, twisting the cap open. “Drink this,” she breathes out shakily, holding it out to him.

He doesn’t know what else to do but take it from her and do as she tells him. He always does anything she asks, and even now, when he’s already lost any integrity, he’s still trying to…

“S-stay here. Don’t move.” She runs into the conbini.

Her stuff is scattered on the ground, and he decides that she would at least allow him to move to help pick up her things.

Granola bars, puddings, her perfectly filled notebooks, flashcards, a textbook, another energy drink.

It occurs to him that she was maybe on her way to his place, only a couple blocks from here. That she was maybe going to check up on him. That she was maybe thinking she could help him study. That she was maybe going to surprise him, and he was going to be so ridiculously happy on the inside, and he was going to tease her relentlessly for coming over to a guy’s apartment at night, and she was going to tell him to focus, and they would have sneaked glances at each other while they worked, and he was going to feel so ready to take on anything.

His chest feels like a vacuum, his lungs just tight knots squeezing up his throat.

If only he had stayed home an extra five, ten minutes.

If only he had never thought to take a quick run to the conbini, get a soda for a caffeine boost.

If only she wasn’t such a dream, and his life wasn’t such a reality.

He uprights her bicycle and wheels it to lean against the fence, ignoring the dull pain in his side every time he takes a step.

He eases himself back down to where he was when she found him (as if he didn’t move), and only about a minute later, she comes rushing out with more stuff.

Her gaze shifts from her tidied things back to him, her expression turned down in a frown. He can practically hear her thoughts, _“I told him not to move,”_ but she doesn’t say anything, just starts opening a bottle of water and a bag of cotton balls.

So, _so_ carefully, with all the care in the world he knows only she’s capable of, she cleans his wounds. Her fingers gently tilting his chin toward the light as she softly pats away the blood and dirt. Her hand cradling his forearm as she rinses the bruised scratches.

He grits his teeth through the burn of the alcohol, doesn’t make a single sound to reject her care. He lets her bandage him up. Even if he’d rather tell her to stop, even if he’d rather show her that he’s tough, that he doesn’t need her to fuss over him. 

Because what if this is the last time?…

He studies her expression, wondering what she’s thinking, and why she hasn’t said anything.

Her features appear uncharacteristically hard, especially compared to earlier when she looked so alarmed and worried. Now, now he wonders if she’s mad at him. But she’s too nice to say so.

He disappointed her.

He knew he would.

He tried so hard not to.

He wanted to live up to his promises to her.

“Hinata,” he quietly starts, heart heavy. “I’m sorry.”

Her eyes dart up to his, so close, so wide, so alert, colored so mysteriously skyward light, and he can only gaze back, unblinking, dread twisting his gut at the absolute severity he’s _never_ seen directed at him before, not from _her_.

“Who did this to you.” Each word enunciated low, fraught with a tension that vows a consequence dealt from her own command.

He feels the beat of his heart trip over itself and he blinks at her.

Her gaze drops, her cheeks pinch in a grimace as she finishes wrapping his arm. “You’re hurt so badly, did you not fight back? like this, you let someone do this to you, didn’t you, you have to tell me who it is-” Whispered words spill out of her suddenly, painfully weighted in her emotion. “-he can’t get away with it, or was it more than one person?” Her eyes lift once more, fearful dismay written across her fair features.

He holds her gaze for a second before responding, though that pause was already enough to confirm her suspicion. “I-it was two guys,” he admits, and just that quickly, he’s filled with a warmth at her recognition. His pride incredibly healed, boosted even, that she knows he would never be this busted up if he had fought back.

The concern, the worry, lacing her expression is one he never wanted to see again from anyone, but, coming from her, it has never felt like pity, but more like, more like…more like maybe she… 

Instead it fills him up in places he thought were empty, fills him with a desperate drive to do everything in his power to make her happy.

“I didn’t hit them, Hinata,” he says as earnestly as he can. “I didn’t start it, not this time…”

He can see the lift of her expression, the hint of relief, pride, and thankfulness in her eyes, and it simultaneously moves and pains him.

“But…it was still my fault, you could say they were just trying to finish it, get back at me-”

“No. Naruto-kun, no.” Her disagreement is clear and certain. “No, this is not your fault. The cashier is a witness, I am a witness. I’ll make sure the school investigates this properly. They won’t get away with it, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” Her sincere, steady tone soothes him, calms the adrenaline he didn’t know was still running high in him, lays away so much of the stress of the past hour, at least for now. 

But most of all, the fact that she’s here with him, still enduring all of his shit, still believing in him, still seeing whatever she sees in him…that lets him breathe again. He can feel something overflowing, a well of _emotion_ he needs to communicate, an appreciation for her everything that a simple “thank you” could never begin to cover, and all he can say is, “Hinata…”

She smiles, a precious, precious thing, the creams of her skin flushing a pretty pink. What he wouldn’t do to inspire every blush, every smile of hers for an eternity when such moments already only speak “forever” to him. 

It’s just natural impulse to smile back, to complete this promise between them.

The hot sting of his lip cracking open again snatches him out of the air, back down hard to the unforgiving earth. His hand rubs blood, his fingers staining red.

“Oh!” She gently presses cotton to his lip, then dabs up the streaks on his fingers.

And just that effortlessly, he’s pulled back into her everything, her anything she does.

She lets out a long breath, her eyes scrutinizing his lip, unaware that he’s looking at hers, too. She gathers up all her first-aid supplies, then makes to stand, hands out to help him up.

As they walk back slowly to his apartment, slowly to accommodate his pace (for once), she shyly explains exactly what he suspected earlier. “I was thinking I’d surprise you with some study aids…” And she goes on to describe what he already knows she brought to help him, backtracks to how she was a little worried that he didn’t reply to her message, and suggests that they still try to study if he’s up for it, but only if he wants to.

“…Your old man knows you’re out here in the middle of the night..with me?” he asks instead.

Her lips quirk up, a sneaky expression he’s certain he’s one of the privileged few to have witnessed on rare occasions such as this. Perhaps the only one. Perhaps by his own ~~good~~ awful influence. “My father’s on a business trip.”

“The reliable class rep, sneaking out unchaperoned to galavant with dangerous guys, behold her double personality-”

“Wh-what? Naruto-kun, you’re not dangerous,” she breathes out in a laugh.

He laughs, too, uncaring that it makes his cheek seize, makes his lip bleed, makes his side ache, makes his abdomen clench painfully. He realized in that second how ironic it is, though she likely doesn’t know it. She’s the most authentic person he knows. He’s the one with the double personality. He’s the one who changes around her. She’s right that he’s not dangerous…at least never toward her. Never lonely, never angry, never hurt around her.

“So…do you think you can study with me tonight?” she quietly redirects. “Or maybe you should go to sleep already…” She turns to survey the damage on his face.

Some rest would probably be excellent for his body and his nerves. But there’s no way he’s going to sleep if he can get a couple more hours with her alone. He’s way too happy, and happiness like this, _fluttery, fizzing happiness like this_ , is definitely once-in-a-lifetime for guys like him, he’s certain about that. “Let’s destroy those midterms, Hinata,” he states. Even if he doesn’t fully believe that they won’t suspend him as soon as he steps on campus tomorrow, he’ll pretend he does, for Hinata’s sake, for his own sake.

And he’s so glad, so grateful to see her shining a smile at him. “Yes!”

Her gentle expressions, her soft voice, her cheerful encouragements speak hope into him for the rest of the night.

And when he arranges his aching joints into his bed, he thinks he’ll be okay in the morning. He thinks he’ll try to trust in her belief in him. He thinks he can endure with her through this, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading <3


	2. For One More Second

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompts: “Half the time I get too embarrassed to say anything.” + “No, it’s fine. I can wait until you’re done talking to them.”  
> For Anon request, from [Fluffy/blushy sentence starters by smollmikey on Tumblr](https://smollmikey.tumblr.com/post/134597616053/fluffyblushy-sentence-starters).
> 
> This Part 2 is based on pastillesch's [art on Tumblr](https://pastillesch.tumblr.com/post/613956543439929344/i-thought-i-had-it-out-of-my-system-until-i).  
> Naruto and Hinata are now in their 3rd Year of High School!
> 
> A reader last chapter, SheremyDandelion, recommended [a Landon Austin and Bailey Jehl cover of "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GODgA9SLRlA) as a song that matches this story! It's super nice. Thank you for the song rec x) 
> 
> I have a few cultural references in here, so please refer to the End Notes about those.
> 
> Please enjoy the NaruHina fluff :)

Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

Red marks all over.

He should be used to this, but at some point, or rather, due to someone, he actually started to care.

That’s why it hurts so much to see it.

He stashes it in his book bag before anyone else, especially the class rep, can see how unforgivably stupid he is.

Like a dusty old video game, if he just picked it up and shook it out, played it, he’d remember how to go back to the way things used to be. Going to class if he wanted to, skipping if he wanted to, and most of all, he didn’t care if anyone cared. Teachers, counselors, they all tried to talk to him. None of it mattered because none of it mattered.

And a seemingly spotless girl like Hinata was the last person he wanted to have anything to do with.

Yeah, if he just tried, he could easily play things the way he did throughout middle school.

But…

She showed him it’s not too late to play a better game.

So he swallows his stupid pride and tries to wait for a chance to talk to her. Preferably when they’re alone so that no one else hears him asking for help on a “foundational skill” they need for the rest of the school year.

But now in their third year, she’s always busy, so naturally enfolded into the everyday of school routines… Always helping their classmates, disappearing on errands for the teacher, or just laughing with other people who are decidedly successful in school, both in grades and popularity.

There was a time when he wondered if he was one of her sole focuses in school. She “casually” followed him around, nervously bothered him at the most random of times, and offered to help him even if he never asked. And he eventually got used to it, or rather, just gave up on rebuffing someone so pitifully shy and simultaneously so stubborn about her job as the class rep.

He ended up liking her attention.

Over the course of his first year, his grades got marginally better.

His attendance improved.

He made better friends.

In his second year, he tried to stop being so dependent on her. He wanted to try to change, to be more reliable, to get her to start looking at him as a man rather than a charity case.

He thought he must be doing well. Less messages. Less of her presence if he looked around. Less of her eyes on him.

Less her.

Recently he was walking home and realized he had only spoken to her once all day, a habitual morning greeting and that was it.

And it’s not because he didn’t want to talk to her.

He wants to.

He just doesn’t know how to anymore.

The whole day passes, and he didn’t get a chance to go up to her.

They’re friends, right? In their first year, she even came over to his place every once in awhile to check on him. She sat right there next to him in the living area. It’s not weird, is it, to ask her to talk to him alone?

He tries to message her. _Hey Hinata_

He stares at his phone.

A minute.

Five minutes later still nothing.

Nearly twenty minutes later, _“Naruto-kun! Hello”_

Finally. _I don’t wanna bother you but_

He pauses, his courage failing him for a moment. What’s he so afraid of, that she’ll ignore him? She wouldn’t do that. _can I get your help on physics_

_“Sure! You’re never a bother! Should I call you?”_

_That’d be good thanks_

_“No problem!”_

His phone vibrates, and he answers. “Hello? Hinata?”

“Hi, Naruto-kun.” Her voice, intimate in his ear, makes his heartbeat trip over itself.

He really loves her, so much, too much, and he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do about it.

“Ah, I’m sorry it’s noisy here,” she laughs, and he registers background voices and the wind blowing hard enough to try to carry her words away.

“Are you still at school?”

“Mhm, I’m putting up posters with the student gov.”

“Then this isn’t a good time,” he surmises. He wanted to talk to her alone. Actually alone.

“Oh, no, I’m not really doing anything! I’m just kind of walking with them, or, now behind them.”

He stares down at his book, already losing motivation to struggle through, even if he can get her help.

“So what can I do?”

...How does he even start? He just needs help. Serious help. And how’s he supposed to do that over the phone when she’s walking around outside and doing her duties? He sighs. “I just don’t get it.”

A long pause. Then she gives a soft hum of understanding.

“I did bad on the assessment.”

Another quiet and short hum of understanding.

It’s why he called _her_. Over any of the friends he has now, like Sasuke, Shikamaru, or Kiba, she’s the only one he knows would never judge, treat this like a chore, or jokingly mock him.

It’s also what scares him. What does she think of him? Like...really? Really, really. Past any of the encouragement she’s always given him, deep down…

He has half-a-mind to hang up.

“Naruto-kun, let’s go over the-” Her voice suddenly cuts away from the phone, an astonished “Otsutsuki-san!” is followed by words he can’t make out.

He can imagine enough to know that the Class President is bothering her, flirting with her. He makes his friendliness clear enough. Visiting their class during lunch to talk just to her, supposedly for student government business. Like anyone besides Hinata actually buys that excuse.

“Naruto-kun? I’m sorry about that-”

“No, it’s fine,” he interrupts. “I’ll talk to you later, Hinata.”

“Oh-”

“You’re busy, so I shouldn’t be bothering you right now anyways. Thanks, though.” He hangs up.

And it only strikes him in the ensuing silence of his unit that he acted like an asshole. _Damn it!_ He stares angrily at his textbook, the number of problems overwhelming. There’s no point in doing them if he’s going to get them all wrong anyway. So he slams the book closed in hopes of shutting his regret away with it, too.

But hardly a minute later, his phone vibrates. _“I can come over when I’m done if that’s okay!”_

He stares at it, eyes wide, heat consuming his face. _You don’t gotta do that it’ll be getting late_ , he replies.

He waits for her response, but none comes. He frowns, uncertain on whether she’s actually coming over or not. He gives a sweeping glance around his place, immediately cringing at the full rubbish can, the dishes left out around the room, and his jackets laying across furniture haphazardly.

Thirty minutes later, he gets a new message from her. _“I’m on my way!”_

He realizes she completely ignored his last message, but he should have expected that anyway, knowing her secretly headstrong personality. He resumes washing the dishes, now earnestly trying to get them all done as quickly as possible.

But when he’s got all the dishes in the drying rack, picked up clothes off the floor, and thrown away old papers, he realizes she’s taking too long. She should have gotten to his place ten minutes ago. Anything could have happened to her on the way, and it was so idiotic of him to call her and then hang up on her, unknowingly goading her into this visit. He shoves his shoes on, calls her number, opens the door with his other hand, runs out-

He barges right into a body, sending a long-haired girl in his school colors stumbling back. His arms fly out to catch her on reflex. “Hinata!”

Her eyes are wide, mouth fallen open in sheer surprise as he manages to get her straightened out.

The sound of his call connecting with her phone solidifies her presence, and he drops his hands off of her. “I’m sorry! Are you okay?!” Frantically he checks her over, analyzing her expression for any pain whatsoever.

She nods quickly, but she looks still too frazzled for his liking.

“Are you sure? I didn’t hurt you or anything, did I?”

“I-I’m fine,” she breathes out. “Are you going somewhere?”

“I’m really sorry, Hinata. I got worried that you weren’t here, yet.” He feels so stupid for practically running her over. He could have actually hurt her, and it would’ve been entirely his fault.

She hums in disagreement and looks up at him with a timidity that reminds him of their first year in high school. “I’m sorry I took so long. I didn’t mean to make you worry… I just started to think that maybe it was rude of me to suddenly come over…”

“No! No, of course not!” he assures as earnestly as he can. He thinks then to end his call and stop their phones’ incessant tones, and the atmosphere turns entirely much calmer. “I’m just glad you got here safe.”

He watches her cheeks pinken, a small, self-conscious smile curving her eyes.

It takes a good second for him to wake up from his stricken daze and invite her inside.

She steps in carefully with every bit of politeness as if she might offend the walls themselves. “Please excuse my intrusion.”

He knows that she knows that there’s no one else at home besides him. It makes her customary manners all the more endearing.

“Sorry,” he bluntly apologizes again. “You really didn’t have to come over. Is it okay for you to be out this late?”

She nods as she removes her shoes. “I have some time before I’m expected back home. And I’m happy to help you, Naruto-kun. You know that, right?”

He feels soft all over even though his heart is racing. He has her, Hinata, at his place, just them, and logically, he should make a move. When else will he get a chance? But he can’t. It’s been over a year, and she still sees him as the guy she needs to help.

At a loss, he doesn’t answer her. Instead he retreats further into the room to take a seat and hopefully calm down.

“It’s been awhile,” she murmurs, looking around. “Everything looks the same as I remember.”

He knows she’s only making an innocent observation, but it just solidifies his sense of inadequacy. “Yeah, nothing’s changed around here.” He doesn’t mean his tone of voice to sound so dead.

She freezes up, and he knows it’s his fault for being so unfriendly. Even now, with her right here, he’s layering bricks between them.

“Come sit down,” he invites, trying to be softer to her.

“I’m sorry, what am I doing! You must be stressed out, and I’m--” She shakes her head, reprimanding herself over nothing.

He hates that she doesn’t rely on him. He hates that she somehow turns everything into her responsibility. He hates that it’s his fault. “No, it’s not that I’m stressed out…”

She blinks, curiosity written across her face as she takes a seat on a chair that’s usually covered with his stuff. “Naruto-kun,” she murmurs carefully, “is something going on?”

_You_ , he could say. But he won’t. He shakes his head for lack of anything better to say.

Her head tilts, gaze shifting away. “You can tell me…”

What can he say? It’s this problem, over and over. How much can he deny her before it pushes her away completely? Should he just confess?

No.

He can’t.

“It’s just embarrassing,” he admits in compromise. It’s half of the truth. He’s straight-up embarrassed to have to ask her for help all the time.

She sits taller, eyes wide. “Embarrassed? ...Why?”

“Because!” he explains and gestures at her, at his books, in the air.

“I make you feel embarrassed?” she asks, pitch raising with apparent surprise. “No! Naruto-kun…”

At her suddenly sad expression, he tries to backpedal, “It’s not your fault, it’s just me.”

She gazes at him, expression turning slightly pinched. A look of determination he’s grown familiar with. “You...you might not think of me this way, but you’re...you’re one of my closest friends, and I don’t want you to feel ashamed or embarrassed. You can ask me for anything.”

He gapes at her. “But you have so many other friends who are so much smarter and better than me, and we don’t spend as much time together as I’d like us to-”

In his own dumbfounded silence, her skin blossoms pink once more, as if the steaming heat off his own face burned her by sheer proximity. She gazes at him, and he’s afraid his heart will start beating right out of his ears. “I’ve been busy, but no matter how little time I get to talk to you, it’s always special to me,” she whispers.

_Special…? Does she…?_ Anticipation and hope short-circuit his basic functions.

She covers her face with her hands. “Now what am I saying!”

His mouth opens uselessly as he searches for a response. “Hinata! It’s the same for me.” He watches her peek away from her hands, pretty eyes, pretty, little smile. “Of course you’re special to me, too. That’s why it’s embarrassing to always ask for your help…” He stares at the table. He just confessed.

He confessed.

He just told her his feelings indirectly.

His attention darts to her. He measures the look in her eyes, shining, gentle…

Loving?

Might she return his feelings?

Or not?

Maybe… She’s so accepting of him, of any awkward or rude thing he does or says, it’s no wonder she makes him hope for more, no wonder that she turned his indifference into love. She never laughs at him or shows disgust. She always looks as if his words mean something to her, as if she really hears him and understands the heart of what he means to say.

Every patient explanation of the concepts, every thoughtful example, her corrections of his stupid mistakes are filled with her warmth and knowing familiarity.

She helps him with a certainty that he already has the ability to perform well. This kind of confidence in him...it’s irreplaceable, right? He’ll never meet anyone who makes him feel the way she does, right?

Like a second is forever, but an hour is just a fleeting moment.

After helping him with the majority of the problems, she checks her phone for the time and tells him she has to leave.

He felt like she was hardly here, but to be honest with himself, he knows that even the whole night wouldn’t feel long enough. “Thank you for coming over to help me.”

She hums a disagreement. “It was no problem at all. Do you feel better about it?”

“Yeah, I can do the rest on my own.”

“That’s good!” She smiles brightly at him. “I’m glad I could help you.”

“Thank you, Hinata. Get home safely, okay? Message me when you get home.”

“Okay.” Her shining smile has him desperately memorizing her every detail.

She heads to the door and slips her shoes on. She stands straight again. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Naruto-kun.”

Tomorrow...the same way they have been… Her rushing around, her attention everywhere except on him? And he’ll have only whatever flashes of tonight to hold him through?

Unbidden, he steps too close to her.

Her eyes turn up to see him better, and she’s blinking in apparent surprise. She takes a belated step back, but he closes that gap anyway, compelled to break through the wall he’s been painfully building up between them over the past year.

She cranes her head up again. “You’re close,” she murmurs, and steps back, now nearly against the door.

He can’t sense any fear in her voice. He doesn’t see any discomfort. Only surprised curiosity or wondering observation, though he could be reading her wrong. He leans slightly to her height, looking cautiously into her light eyes. “Do you hate it?”

“Um..no…”

He steps slightly closer, and he sees her familiar blush tinting her fair skin. His heartbeat accelerates, his mind finally catching up with his actions, his gaze already lowering to the fullness of her lips.

She sucks her bottom lip in slightly, biting, a firmness there now. And it seems like she knows his intent, yet she says nothing in response.

He swallows down a knot in his throat as her lip relaxes once more, as her breathing visibly speeds up, as he waits and sees that she’s not rejecting him.

Could she really feel the same way as him?

Could she be waiting for him?

“I’m not too close?...” he wonders aloud.

Her lips part, her voice hardly a breath, “...no.”

She’s always been deceivingly accommodating. If she really hated this, she would have pushed him away by now.

But what if she just doesn’t want to hurt his feelings?

Even she wouldn’t be _that_ nice to him, right?

But he’s already past the wall, there’s no salvaging their friendship if he chooses to leave her alone now.

“Hinata…” He looks back into her eyes, searching for answers, instead finding her gaze focused at his mouth. _Does she… Can I…_ “If you want this, please-” His breath gets stuck in his chest.

Her eyes close, her blush rosy on her cheeks. “Yes..”

The last of his fears broken down, her one word inviting him in.

She’s soft. Smooth.

He lifts, and she doesn’t recoil away. So he meets her again, mind numbing, senses heightened, attuned to her through the slightest pressure of her lips moving with his.

His heart trembles, an unfamiliar tightening in his chest that makes him ache with a pure happiness he’s felt only in fuzzy warmth with her before, but now in almost overwhelming clarity. He pulls up, lightly gasping, and watches her hand shyly come up to cover her mouth. “...Hinata,” he manages to verbalize, “will you be my girlfriend?”

She looks up and silently nods, her curled fingers still at her lips. “...I’m in your care, Naruto-kun.”

He never knew happiness could make his mind feel so blown out. “Please take care of me, too.”

She smiles, shy and sweet, and he knows he’ll protect this, her smile, their promise to each other, for the rest of his life.

Starting now.

He shoves on his shoes. “I’ll walk you home,” he announces, taking advantage of his new boyfriend rights. He pulls her hand securely into his, exposing her whole face for him to freely admire.

She’s quiet for the whole walk, but he has nothing to say, either.

The warmth and softness of her smaller hand has officially wiped his whole brain blank. Their shared kiss still tingles hot on his lips, as if even touch can’t transfer into memories until his brain is functioning normally again.

When they arrive at her house, far sooner than he would have liked, she whispers a “Good night,” tiptoes and kisses his cheek, and there, too, her voice stays puffy in his ears, his cheek burns where her lips touched.

His heart feels too swollen with sensation for him to breathe properly.

He feels he’ll never be normal again.

He doesn’t want to be normal again.

He’ll pick her up in the morning, walk with her to school, linger at her side for no specific reason during breaks, wait after school to walk her home…

Repeat, repeat.

He’ll let her touch, her voice, her gaze leave hot imprints on his skin, let her sear all the way down to his swollen heart…

Tomorrow, the day after, and the days after that.

He’ll do his best to do the same for her. From the day she approached him, scared of his reputation, but not scared enough to be scared away...Her courage she instilled in him. He’ll stop looking back, he’ll face her properly no matter what, treat her right...

He’ll give her the future she’s already given him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've experimented with different amounts of Japanese-ness in my stories. For this one, I decided to just translate all of the customary phrases, but I hope in your head, you heard the Japanese the way I do.
> 
> 1\. Message - Japanese people hardly text. They use messaging apps like Line.
> 
> 2\. Toneri visits Hinata's (and Naruto's) class - Japanese students don't switch classrooms at all. So you're with the same kids all day. So having a friend from another class who's the opposite sex come over to talk just to you is an amount of effort that most kids wouldn't exert unless there's some /special/ reason.
> 
> 3\. "Please excuse my intrusion" - Ojama-shimasu. To translate very literally, "I'm going to get in your way." You say it to announce your rudeness in entering someone's home.
> 
> 4\. "I'm in your care" or "Please take care of me." - (Douzo) Yoroshiku (Onegai-shimasu). One of those phrases with many meanings in different circumstances, but in starting a relationship, you might say this, too, as a way of sealing the deal, making it official. Those parts in parentheses make it more polite, and you technically *could* leave them off to be casual (or plain rude, it depends).
> 
> 5\. Boyfriend rights - Walking someone home (like in Naruto - The Last) or to school is a sign of a romantic relationship. Sakura pressures Naruto to do this with Hinata in the movie because that would VERY CLEARLY show he has romantic intentions toward her (not just to be nice, though an oblivious girl might interpret it that way).
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
